#cardiophilia writing

[camilleisback]

Since some of us have noticed a lack of cardiophilia centered/heartbeat related prompts on this site, I've come up with a short, non-exhaustive list to boost your writing!

Text version under the cut:

CARDIOPHILIA/HEARTBEAT RELATED PROMPTS

SOFT:

accidental listening

"your heartbeat is soothing"

hand to one's chest while kissing

falling asleep to the beat of one's heartbeat

feeling one's heartbeat through the clothes

sometimes, home is two arms and a heartbeat

after exercise heartbeat

"can you hear it/feel it? It beats just for you"

tired after a long day

reacquainting with someone's heartbeat

WHUMP:

collapsing after strenuous exercise

bad fit of tachycardia

"fuck, my chest hurts"

cardiac tamponade

overdose

medicines don't work/failed healing magic

heart disease

defibrillation/cardioversion

heart torture

cardiac arrest

NSFW:

drugged heartbeat

self-stething

comparing pulses

playing doctor

lazy morning

heated fuck

making out while hooked up to an EKG

"I wanna make your heartbeat run like rollercoasters"

electrical stimulation

chemically induced arrhythmia

GENERAL:

"I think there's something wrong with my heart"

open-heart surgery

grounding after a panic attack

skipping beats

broken heart

"your heart sounds so strong..."

medical check-up

love confession

research project

dagger/bullet/dart to the heart

experimental treatment

close monitoring

shortness of breath

"the only sound I hear is my own heartbeat"

the telltale heart

self-stething [nonsexual]

"do you want me to take a listen?"

bedside vigil

clockwork machine

bad at managing medicines

[roxiewyatthb]

Exam Room Performance

Synopsis: Fantasy Hospital. Doctors and Nurses are in silk robes and examine your heart in unique ways. Speaker stethoscopes, big screen ultrasounds, and plenty of exercise. As requested by @aheartsbeat wc: 1.2k cw: none

The room is cold and bleak, typical for an examination room. However, this was far from your typical examination room. This one was special. Different.

Each doctor and nurse wore luxurious silk robes with nothing underneath -- hard nipples and obvious bulges were not so hidden under the thin fabric.

And you. You also wore one of these robes. It was your favorite color and much different from your average, cheap hospital gown.

The room while it lacked in color and decoration, made up for it with the most interesting instruments you've ever seen; a giant screen that took up nearly an entire wall and stethoscopes with unusual bells.

Bells that looked like mini speakers.

On the other side of the room was a single stationary bike and treadmill. Would you be using those too?

"Please, lay down." One of the doctors spoke up in a soft tone, gesturing at the bed behind you.

Even the bed was different. Instead of those horrendous, rock-solid "beds" in normal hospitals, this one looked much softer -- comfortable.

And you were correct.

This bed rivaled the one you had at home. Soft and comfortable. You could easily fall asleep on this.

But a sleep study was not on the agenda for today.

Today you were going to be put through several cardiology examinations.

This small reminder caused your heart to pick up speed.

Looking back at the screen and stethoscopes on the wall, you pondered what they could possibly do with those. Soon, your questions will be answered.

With you now lying on the bed, several doctors and nurses got to work.

Some grabbed stethoscopes from the wall, two others grabbed what you assumed were ultrasound wands, while one started to set up the screen on the wall.

You gulped nervously and tried to focus on your breathing but your chest moved with each pounding beat of your chest -- giving away your excitement to the room.

The nurses with the stethoscopes gathered around one side of your bed while the doctors with the wands gathered on the other side. The one by the screen stood over by it.

Without warning, one of the doctors untied the knot on your robe, opening it up and exposing your chest to the room.

A few beats after that, cold gel was applied to your skin right over your heart and the two doctors with the wands placed them down on your chest.

In an instant, you saw your heart pounding on the giant screen on the wall.

It showed two different views. You're unsure which ones you're seeing, but you can't deny it was mesmerizing.

Watching your valves snap open and closed. Pounding harder at the scene but still staying strong and steady.

"Look at your heart," The doctor by the screen said while lifting their arm as if presenting it. "It's working hard...it's truly something, isn't it?"

Before you could think of a response to the question you felt several cold objects against your body -- the nurses holding the stethoscopes -- and quickly the room filled with the sound of your heart beating in sync with the ultrasound on the screen.

Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum

Loud and fast.

You wondered how fast it was going until you realized the numbers in the far corner of the screen.

"128 BPM".

And steadily climbing.

You notice it get to around the 140s before the doctor at the front of the room once again speaks up.

"Okay, now I'm going to ask you to work your pump out for a bit." They paused for a second, "10 minutes on both the treadmill and bike at the highest intensity setting should be good enough."

And with that, the nurses and other doctors removed themselves from you, allowing you to get off of the bed and onto the stationary bike to start.

Once you were settled there, two nurses and one doctor put their instruments back on your chest, your heart on display and beats filling the room once more.

You started to pedal and quickly your heart rate picked up.

"That's good, just like that." The doctor praised you while watching your valves snap violently.

140...145...149...153...

Your heart was now racing.

Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum

Your breathing picked up, lungs trying to provide enough oxygen for your hard-working heart.

Finally, you reached mid 170s while on the bike and the doctor let you take a short break to catch your breath.

You felt your heart move the hands of the nurses and doctor up and down with each beat, hearing the chaos through the speaker stethoscopes. Watching the screen along with everyone else.

Your heart still beat strong and unwavering.

Only about 30 seconds passed before you were asked to move to the treadmill, wobbling your way over.

Two different nurses and the other ultrasound doctor now joined your side, waiting for you to adjust the intensity of the treadmill, then they placed their instruments on your chest just like the previous ones.

Just like the other times, your heart presented itself on the screen. Your heart rate lowered a bit, now at the low 130s.

But that would quickly change.

The belt started to move and you got to work, along with your heart.

As if it knew the deal already, your heart rate skyrocketed fast, reaching high 180s within 2 minutes.

BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM

"You can do better than that." You swore you heard that one doctor say something again but you weren't sure. It could've been your own mind saying that this time.

No matter, you still pushed yourself.

You picked up your pace on the treadmill, breathing even heavier now, heart pounding and racing harder and faster as everyone in the room listened and watched intently.

Your valves were moving at such speeds that they seemed to not be moving at some points.

186...190...194...199...

BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM

You felt as if your heart was going to pound out of your chest by now. Your pulse roaring and bouncing off the walls, throbbing against your neck -- you even felt it in the rest of your body.

200

You let out a sigh of relief as you were asked to stop the machine. Slowing down until it came to a complete stop.

Without removing the wand and stethoscopes from your chest, the nurses helped guide you back to the bed where you laid down again and tried to catch your breath.

Your heart still felt like it was going a mile a minute. Throbbing almost painfully against your chest. Now with this new angle, you were able to see it visibly shake your entire body, taking the hands of the nurses and doctor with it.

You turn your head to view the screen, watching as your heart slows but still continues to thump with purpose, now within the 150s range.

"Good job. We'll just keep you here, listening and watching your heart until it reaches approximately 60 to 70 beats per minute." The doctor that stood by the screen said with a smile.

At this rate, you'll be in this room with your heart on display all day.

Not that you were complaining.

[dittaturamonegasca]

for me it's the fact that the one-shot i wrote in two to three sleepless nights about charles being a loser over max's heartbeat received more attention than pieces i've written and cultivated for months

SOMETIMES LESS IS MORE, I GUESS????

[materiaheartt]

Finally decided to do some writing!

Click here to read

incredibly self-indulgent with these two

private link to avoid tags, hope you understand ^^

[kk095]

Ella’s OD

The fluorescent lights in Trauma Room One buzzed faintly, casting a glow on our usual team of medical professionals who stood like statues, their faces unreadable. Dr Lindsay stood at the head of the exam table, arms folded, her sharp eyes flicking towards the doorway. Nurse Nancy adjusted her gloves, the faint snap breaking the silence, while Nurse Heather prepared the crash cart nearby, her hands steady despite the silent tension in the room.

In an instant, the stillness shattered as the trauma bay doors flung open with a loud thud. A gurney barreled through, along with two paramedics. One was perched on top of the stretcher, rhythmically compressing the chest of a young lady. “22 year old female!” the paramedic started, breathless but focused, pumping away at the patient’s chest. “Suspected overdose, cardiac arrest for 15 minutes. She’s intubated- no response to multiple doses of Narcan. Seven shocks, two doses of epi on board!” the medic continued.

Twenty two year old Ella’s bare chest caved in hard, her small perky breasts with pierced nipples jiggling slightly in sync with each individual compression. Her fair skin had taken on a ghastly pallor, her colorful tattoo sleeves a stark contrast to her otherwise lifeless appearance. Her green eyes, wide open, stared into nothing, frozen in a gaze of terror that sent a chill through the room. The breathing tube taped firmly in place peeked between her pale lips, and the hiss of the ambu bag punctuated the chaos.

“Let’s transfer her on my count!” Dr Lindsay commanded, stepping towards the gurney. The team moved as one. “One… two… THREE!” With a coordinated heave, they transferred Ella onto the trauma room table. “Nancy, get me a rhythm check!” Dr Lindsay ordered as Nurse Heather connected the defibrillator pads to Ella’s chest. The monitor let out a shrill alarm as it revealed a chaotic ventricular fibrillation pattern. “She’s in v-fib, Linds” Nancy announced, her voice steady despite the grim reading. “Charge to 200!” Lindsay called out, snapping her latex gloves into place. “Everyone… CLEAR!” The team took a step back as Lindsay delivered a shock. Ella’s body was thrown around dramatically by the jolt of electricity, her green eyes still locked in that haunting gaze. “Ok, no change. Heather, resume compressions!” Lindsay barked, her voice sharp. Nancy jumped in without hesitation, her hands working Ella’s fragile frame as the room became a cacophony of beeping monitors, barking orders, and the rhythmic thud of chest compressions.

As the EMS team hurried out, their job done, the doors swung shut behind them, leaving the trauma team to take over the fight for Ella’s life. Nurse Heather stood at Ella’s side, her hands interlocked and pumping firmly on the young woman’s bare chest. The compressions sent tremors through Ella’s thin frame, her green eyes still frozen open, giving the room an eerie, haunting feel. “Charging to 300!” Dr Lindsay announced, her voice cutting through the noise. Her gloved hand hovered over the defibrillator controls as the machine emitted its rising electrical whine. “CLEAR!” she called, stepping back as Heather lifted her hands, and the team momentarily froze. The shock surged through Ella’s torso, causing her body to jerk violently before collapsing ungracefully back onto the table. The heart monitor beeped erratically, showing no change, still in ventricular fibrillation. “Resume compressions!” Lindsay barked without missing a beat. Heather immediately resumed, her palms pressing down rhythmically. Sweat glistened on her brow, but she didn’t falter. At the head of the bed, Nurse Nancy ambu bagged. “Come on sweetie, come on…” Nancy leaned in a little, whispering to the patient, gently stroking Ella’s short, jet black hair with bangs.

The door to the trauma room swung open again, with Dr Sarah and brand new, first year resident Dr Jen entering briskly, both already in yellow gowns and gloves, ready to dive into the chaos. “What do we have?” Dr. Sarah asked, her sharp gaze scanning the room. “22 year old female, suspected overdose.” Lindsay replied quickly, not breaking stride. “She’s been down for 18 minutes and counting, no response to Narcan, nine shocks, three rounds of epi. Still in v-fib.” Relayed Dr Lindsay. Dr. Jen moved to the head of the table, assessing Ella’s pale, motionless face. She adjusted the ambu bag, delivering a few firm breaths through the endotracheal tube. “Good tube placement.” she confirmed, her tone clipped but professional. “Any signs of underlying trauma?” Sarah asked as she grabbed the ultrasound probe from the cart. “None reported by EMS.” Nurse Nancy chimed in as she adjusted the IV line, prepping another dose of epinephrine. “All signs point to an overdose.” Lindsay added. “Let’s confirm in a minute. I’m going to see what her heart’s doing.” Sarah muttered, sliding the ultrasound probe across Ella’s chest. The ultrasound screen displayed a fluttering, twitching heart, no organized contractions. “Damn it.” Sarah shook her head. “Push another round of epi and hit her again at 360. We need to get her out of this rhythm now.” Lindsay ordered, her voice firm. Nancy moved swiftly, injecting the dose into Ella’s IV line as the defibrillator began to charge again. The team exchanged a brief, nervous glance before focusing back on their patient.

Heather’s gloved hands pressed down on Ella’s bare chest with rhythmic precision, each compression forcing her sternum to cave and recoil as it fought against the unnatural motion. The force of Heather’s efforts sent subtle ripples through Ella’s body, making her head bob gently in sync. Her short jet-black hair clung to her pale forehead. At the end of the table, Ella’s bare feet, marked with ink from scattered tattoos, bounced lightly with each downward motion. The movement was unnervingly rhythmic, almost like a puppet on strings. The high pitched whine of the defibrillator charging filled the room, growing louder as the next shock prepared to fire. Nurse Nancy, standing by with the ambu bag, occasionally squeezed it to deliver air into Ella’s lungs, though it felt futile against the relentless tide of chaos. Dr Sarah’s voice cut through the background noise. “Charging to 360!” Heather paused her compressions, lifting her gloved hands and stepping back as Dr Lindsay called out, “Clear!” The shock hit Ella’s chest like a thunderclap, her chest shooting up, her back arching before collapsing back, motionless. Her head lolled to the side, her green eyes staring into the void, still wide open, as though bearing silent witness to the battle raging around her. “No change, still in v-fib.” Dr Jen quickly checked the monitor, seeing the same disorganized rhythm. “Resume compressions” Dr Lindsay ordered, her voice sharp but controlled. Heather immediately resumed, her movements unwavering despite the sweat dripping from her temples. Ella’s head began to bob again, her feet tapping softly against the end of the table, the eerie rhythm matching the relentless beeping of the heart monitor. Dr Sarah exhaled sharply, wiping her brow. “We need to break this rhythm. Let’s prep for amiodarone. Nancy, 300 milligrams IV push.” Nancy nodded, grabbing the vial and syringe from the cart. Meanwhile, Dr Jen leaned over Ella, her voice soft but firm as though addressing the patient directly. “Come on, Ella. Don’t give up on us!”

The room was a whirlwind of controlled chaos as the minutes ticked on. Heather’s hands moved without pause, the rhythmic pressure of her compressions forcing Ella’s chest to yield, each pump a desperate attempt to restart the fragile heart beneath. Nancy prepared the amiodarone, her hands steady despite the mounting pressure. She pulled the syringe from the vial, the liquid gleaming under the harsh lights. “Amiodarone, 300 milligrams.” Dr Lindsay confirmed as Nancy injected the drug into the IV line, her movements swift. Dr Sarah glanced at the monitor, noting the continued, disordered chaos of Ella’s rhythm. “We’ve got to break this.” Sarah shook her head. “resuming compressions…” Heather panted, already positioning herself. “Go ahead.” Lindsay said, her eyes scanning the room for any hint of a shift in the young woman’s condition. With each downward push, Heather’s palms met Ella’s sternum with brutal force, her movements unrelenting. The sound of compressions echoed through the trauma room, filling the space with a macabre rhythm. As the cycle of compressions finished, the defibrillator was recharged once again. The air in the room thickened as everyone held their breath, waiting for the next shock. “Charging to 360.” Dr Lindsay called out. “Everyone… CLEAR!” The shock ripped through the room, the sound of Ella’s body being practically thrown off the table a sharp reminder of how tenuous the battle for her life truly was. Still no change. The monitor continued to display the erratic waves of v-fib, mocking their every attempt. Lindsay’s gaze turned to Nancy. “How long has she been down?” asked the doctor. Nancy’s eyes flicked to the clock on the wall, and her voice wavered slightly as she spoke. “Twenty six minutes Linds.” Answered Nancy. “We need to make a decision. She’s not responding to anything.” Dr. Jen inhaled sharply, her gaze briefly meeting Dr Sarah’s. “Push another epi.” Lindsay said, her tone sharp, eyes never leaving the monitor. Nancy quickly prepared the next round of epinephrine. The team had already been through so much, and they were running out of time. Their movements, while practiced, were also beginning to show the strain of prolonged, relentless effort. Heather resumed compressions as the drugs were delivered.

The room buzzed with the constant hum of machines, the beeping of monitors and the rhythmic sound of chest compressions. The team worked in near perfect unison, but the clock was their enemy. With each passing minute, hope seemed to slip further away. “Charging again to 360.” Dr Lindsay’s voice echoed, her eyes locked onto the defibrillator as it whirred to life again. “CLEAR!” As the shock hit, Ella’s slender frame jerked violently on the table. The force of it caused her bare feet to kick up at the far end, lifting off the table for a split second before slamming back down with a thud. For a brief moment, the soft, subtle wrinkles of her size 9 soles were on full display. “Still no change.” Dr Sarah observed, eyes narrowing at the monitor, where v-fib still flashed across the screen. “Keep pushing!” Lindsay urged. “We can’t stop now. Another round of compressions, Heather.” Lindsay added. Heather didn’t waste any time. She leaned back into position, pressing her palms into Ella’s chest with a brutal force. With each compression, Ella’s head lolled, her hair swaying ever so slightly with the rhythm, her face still locked in terror. A series of beeps followed, signaling that the defibrillator was ready once more. “Charging to 360 everyone.” Dr Jen called out this time, her voice tinged with urgency. “Clear!” Once again, the shock hit Ella’s chest with brutal force, and her toes curled, reacting to the shock with an involuntary response, showing off the black nail polish on her toes, along with the cute wrinkles in the soles of her feet. Still, the heart monitor continued to display the chaotic spikes of v-fib, unyielding in its disarray. “Nothing…” Dr Lindsay muttered. “AGAIN!” The team, now pushing past exhaustion, administered another round of shocks, one after another- 360 joules each time, but with no change. Finally, after a third unsuccessful shock, the room felt tense.

Nancy glanced at the clock. Her voice, barely above a whisper, cut through the tension. “Forty two minutes, Linds.” The words hung in the air. Forty-two minutes. The odds of success were growing slimmer with each passing second. Dr Sarah exhaled sharply, glancing at Dr Jen, whose brow was furrowed in concentration. They all knew what the numbers meant, but none of them dared to speak it aloud. The monitor still showed v-fib, mocking all the team’s efforts up to that point.

Dr Lindsay’s voice broke through the tension. “Heather, resume compressions!” Heather didn’t flinch. She was already back in position, hands pressed firmly against Ella’s chest, delivering yet another round of brutal, unrelenting compressions. The steady rhythm echoed, a constant in the chaos, as if her life still had a chance- if only for a moment longer.

Dr Jen, her eyes focused on the monitor, took a step to the head of the bed. She moved slowly, her gaze drawn down to Ella’s face. Ella’s green eyes remained unnervingly wide open, staring helplessly at the ceiling. The glazed, lifeless death stare made her appear more like a forgotten doll than a beautiful young woman in the throes of a desperate fight for survival. The vacant gaze was cold, unblinking, locked in place as if her body had already accepted what her mind could not. Jen swallowed hard, her throat tight with a mixture of professional detachment and the raw sting of helplessness. She leaned in, pulling a penlight from her scrub pocket and shining it into Ella’s wide open eyes. The light flicked across her pupils, but they didn’t react. The glow of the light reflected back with the cold, indifferent stare of a body already slipping further away. “Pupils fixed and dilated…” Dr Jen observed, her voice barely audible, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. She took a step back, a troubled frown crossing her face as she shook her head, unable to hide the quiet disbelief. It wasn’t just the absence of any reaction to the light- it was the utter lack of life in Ella’s expression, as though her soul had already departed. Dr Sarah looked up from the monitor, meeting Jen’s eyes for a brief moment. The wordless exchange spoke volumes- their collective knowledge of what they were likely facing now. “She’s gone, isn’t she?” the resident asked. Lindsay’s eyes were cold, calculating. She didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to admit it- but the signs were impossible to ignore. She didn’t answer Jen immediately, focusing instead on the monitor as another cycle of compressions was completed. The v-fib was still there- persistent, chaotic, and now undeniably futile. “She’s not gone yet.” Lindsay finally said, her voice unwavering, though her words carried the bitter edge of disbelief. Jen nodded, though her expression remained pained. There was a subtle shift in her posture, the weight of the decision sinking in. They were pushing past the point of reason now- fighting for a life that might have already slipped through their fingers.

The defibrillator charged with a menacing hum, the quiet tension in the room palpable. “CLEAR!” Dr Sarah’s voice rang out, and in a single, tense moment, the shock hit Ella’s body with a violent jolt. Ella’s slender frame jerked sharply on the table, the electricity coursing through her body with an uncontrollable force. Her back arched slightly before slamming back down, her feet lifting briefly once more before crashing to the table. For just a split second, the brief twitch of her muscles seemed almost… human. But it was fleeting, just as everything else had been. Once again, the chaos on the monitor didn’t subside. V-fib persisted, a constant visual reminder that no matter how many times they shocked her, her heart refused to resume a proper rhythm. Heather, ever steady, resumed chest compressions immediately, the crunch of each compression reverberating in the room. Her movements were practiced and deliberate, a well oiled machine in sync with the others. But before long, Dr Lindsay held up a hand, halting the cycle. “Stop…” she said quietly, but with an undeniable finality. Heather paused, her hands still hovering over Ella’s bruised, battered chest as she looked up, waiting for the next instruction. Lindsay’s gaze remained fixed on the monitor, her eyes narrowing at the stubborn, erratic lines of v-fib. Her lips pressed into a thin line, the weight of the situation getting to her. Finally, she sighed, closing her eyes for a brief moment, before speaking the words that everyone in the room had been dreading. “She’s gone. Time of death… 21:55.” Lindsay shook her head. She turned away from the table, her frustration spilling out in a short, sharp exhale. The decision to call the time of death was never easy, but there was something particularly brutal about this moment. The countless attempts, the shock after shock, the tireless effort- it all meant nothing in the face of this. The team stood motionless for a moment, the weight of the loss settling over them. The room that had been filled with the chaos of resuscitation now felt oppressive in its silence. Heather slowly pulled her hands away from Ella’s chest, her face hard to read as she stood up, stepping back.

Dr Sarah, who had remained silent through the exchange, stepped forward with a slow, deliberate breath. Her gaze lingered on Ella’s face, the wide, unblinking eyes staring back at her, frozen in time. Jen was the next to speak, her voice subdued. “I’ve never seen a body hold on so long… like that.”

Dr Lindsay’s frustration deepened, her fingers gripping the edge of the counter as she stared down at the lifeless figure on the table. She didn’t reply to Jen immediately, instead filling out the paperwork with mechanical precision, marking the inevitable as if it were just another task. But the look on her face said it all. She wasn’t okay with this. “You did everything you could, Linds” Dr Sarah said softly, stepping beside her to offer some measure of comfort, but the words felt hollow.

The room was still, except for the soft rustle of movements as the team shifted into the next phase of their task. Nancy moved first, her hands shaking slightly as she detached the ambu bag from Ella’s ET tube. Next, Dr Lindsay reached over and turned off the heart monitor. The beeping- once erratic and frantic, now just a slow, steady buzz of failure- came to a sudden stop. Nurse Heather moved to the other side of the bed, her gloved fingers working methodically as she disconnected the EKG wires from Ella’s torso. The defib pads were peeled off, their sticky residue a faint reminder of the futile attempts to bring Ella back to life. With a small, practiced tug, Heather pulled the wires free, coiling them neatly as she set them aside, careful to avoid disturbing the fragile quiet that had settled over the room. Then, as if in slow motion, Dr Sarah stepped forward, her eyes looking down at Ella. She retrieved the toe tag from the corner of the room, the heavy paper crinkling in her hands. Her pen hovered for a brief moment over the space for time of death. It was already etched In her mind, a number that had haunted her since the moment they’d called it. With a steady hand, Dr Sarah filled out the rest of the tag. Afterwards, she glanced one final time at the patient- no longer a person they were fighting to save, but simply a body now- and placed the tag on the big toe of Ella’s left foot. The tag dangled gently against the wrinkled soles of Ella’s feet. Dr Jen stepped forward, her face a mask of quiet resolve. She moved to the side of the bed, pulling a cover from a nearby cart. With careful hands, she draped the cover over Ella’s body. The sheet covered everything except her toe tagged feet. The team stood back, an unspoken respect filling the air as they took one last look at the lifeless form before them. The sheet settled over Ella’s face, and with it, the last remnants of her terrified, vacant stare were hidden from view- concealed forever beneath the sterile fabric. “Let’s move her to the morgue…” Dr Lindsay said, her voice unexpectedly soft, almost apologetic. The words broke the silence like a whispered command. Without another word, the team began the quiet, methodical process of preparing Ella’s body for transport. Just like that, Ella became the latest beauty to find herself toe tagged and under a sheet in our emergency department.

[risherrd]

#heart beats. write privately and please share me

[asystolearchives]

Liric and Quinn - Fairy Resus

Inspired by some wonderful art from my new friend @saphicresus, my first story. I may come back to this some day and re-write it to be a bit better, but I wanted to go ahead and get something published. I hope you like it!

Liric’s tail flicked in frustration as she paused- focusing her breath as she tried to stay quiet. To stay hidden. Her wings pulled in closer to her tiny frame, pointed ears able to pick up even the slightest of sounds but yet she didn’t hear a thing. She could feel her tiny heart racing in her chest, adrenaline rushing through, making every movement shaky and uncoordinated.

Quinn was after her. An enemy she had became under circumstances that weren't her own. She’d ventured into her families territory whenever her familiar, a large cane toad named Hieff, had went missing late in the night. The Brabblefern family was known to be skilled hunters, and vicious to their enemies. Where as Liric, the only daughter to the head of the Lotusfeet family, had a lot more peace and understanding to anybody who accidentally came around.

And now, she was in a situation she’d never been in. She was trapped in a Twoleg’s house. She hadn’t realized when she was flying- but had flown straight through an open window. They had both scrambled to hide whenever they heard the Twoleg enter, but now- she didn’t know where Quinn was, or the Twoleg that she couldn’t hear anymore. The tiny fairy moved some of her blonde strands from in front of her face before she heard shuffling- and her wings expanded, taking off quickly and darting out from the cupboard she was in.

“Get back here, you coward!” Quinn screamed angrily. Her features were much different then Lirics. She had the same body type, but her bare body was adorned with swirls of pigment that almost appeared as tattoos. It provided essential camouflage to her enemies. Her skin was much darker, and hair more coarse, currently in tight, firm dreads that had adorations of beads and small animal bones. They were successful, brutal, ruthless hunters. Deep scars showed just how brave she was- and she was quickly catching up to Liric.

“Please- just- leave me alone! Please!” Liric cried out, darting around a corner and ducking under a cabinet. Her eyes quickly scanned in any place that she could hide, she could see freshly cut vegetables on the counter, jars prepared with their lids off setting on the table. She was familiar with this kind of food preservation from her studies, but she didn’t know yet what to do- until she heard the sound of Quinn screaming in pain as she flew over a boiling pot of hot water, the steam having made her dip down into the floor. Liric looked behind her, her wings flapping quickly, still racing to find another open window- deep down, she was afraid that Quinn was hurt. ⁃ THUD! Liric slammed roughly into the wall, not having been watching where she was going. The small fairly fell down, falling into one of the open jars with a hazy thud, stars in her vision as she tried to regain her composure. She didn’t even realize she’d blacked out until she heard something rustling just above the jar, the sound of metal on glass.

Her dark eyes opend in time to see that Quinn had managed to pick up the lightweight lid to the old jar and began to screw it on the top. Liric flew up quickly, shoving her hands against the top- but she was no match. The lid was already screwed, she was just tightening it. She began to beat against the lid. “Quinn! Please- please! Let me out! Let me out!” She screamed frantically, trying to fly against the side of the jar to knock it over. But Quinn flew down, looking at the struggle as Liric began to tire out.

But Liric couldn’t understand why she was getting tired until it dawned on her… she was running out of oxygen, and fast. She slowed down even more, her body feeling heavier then it ever had as she crumbled down to the bottom of the jar, her tail swishing slowly as she looked at the way Quinn smirked at her. The fairy’s long nails slowly tapped against the jar teasingly, her own tail swishing with something that resembled delight as she watched Liric try to gasp. But every breath she took seemed to starve her body further of the oxygen it needed, her heart beating wildly in her ears as if it would jump out of her chest all together. Liric’s hands clawed against the glass, trying to find anything to hold onto- anything to try and convince Quinn that she’d stay away from her territory. She understood why the other fairy was so violent, with how scarse food was, with some other fairies stealing and killing- she wasn’t mad at her… but she knew she didn’t deserve to be killed for her simple mistake. Quinn was several moons older then she was, she had more expirence, more skill, a bigger clan.

Her head began to pound, a headache like she’d never felt before aching through her body. Her vision was blurring even more, and she was getting disoriented, unable to speak. She was suffocating, and her body was starting to go through cyanosis. Her pale skin was turning blue around her lips and her face, the red that had washed over her was fading as her heart stopped trying to uselessly pump blood. Her tiny frame jerked invoulntarily as she slid further, her back hitting the back of the glass as she began to feel more tired.

She couldn’t explain the sense of.. calmness that she felt. Her tired, tiny heart was slowing it’s beats down. The tips of her fingers, and her toes were slowly turning blue, a paleness that was racing to her limbs. Quinn laid her hands on her hips in a satisfied huff. “You’ll never steal from us again, will you Lotusfeet?” She cackled, before jumping up- her wings splaying out and starting to flutter as she took flight again. Liric’s hand reached weakly out twoards the figure as one last plea before everything darkend within her vision, and Quinn flew out the still-open window, just narrowly avoiding the Twoleg as she walked back inside. Liric’s body had gone limp at the bottom of the jar.

Briela looked curiously out her window, her long brown hair dusting over her shoulders, the smell of fresh dirt on her knees as she took off her gardening gloves, setting the basket of herbs down on the small table that she’d collected. “Oh, butterflies this time of year already? I really need to plant those flowers..” She murmured to herself as she looked for the ‘butterfly’ she’d seen fly out her window. She shrugged it off, and moved to kick off her dirty shoes before going over to the sink to start washing her hands. She did so, patting her hands dry on the small towel as blue eyes glanced over to the pot of boiling water.

“Oh! I forgot about canning!” She cried out in surprise at the boiling water, moving to turn down the water a bit before looking at her jars, noticing the metal lid on one. Her head tilted in surprise before she saw it- the tiny, blue fairy within the jar. “O-Oh my! Oh my! Shit, shit shit shit!” She yelped as she quickly lifted up the jar, unscrewing it with ease as she looked into it. “Oh! Hey, hey- holy shit! Are you okay!?” She cried out as she dumped the fairy hap-hazardly onto the tea towel she’d just used to dry her hands, setting the jar back down quickly as she hovered over the tiny frame. Then it dawned on her- this wasn’t her skin color.. whatever this little, magical being was- this was the appearance of suffocating.

“Oh SHIT!” She yelled once she realized, lifting the tiny frame into her palms carefully. Liric’s body shifted coldly in her palm, her wings limp and splayed out, her tail draping past her palm, arms outstretched and hair messily covering her face from being dropped onto the tea towel. Briela quickly moved to turn off the stove with her free hand before running to her kitchen table, taking a quick seat as her thumb rubbed over the tiny fairy’s chest. “Oh come on, breathe! Breathe! You’re out of the jar now you’re okay! You’re okay!” She pleaded quickly, her own hands starting to shake before she rested her thumb over the tiny fairy’s bare chest, inbetween her breasts. She paused, trying to feel for anything. She moved to lay the fairy’s back flat against her palm, moving her fingers against her chest- trying to feel again.

Nothing… Liric’s body had given up it’s fight. It had been too long, her heart had beat so fast and she’d panicked so badly she had only sped up her demise. But Briela wasn’t a stranger to an emergency… but on something this small? She had to think fast, or else the fairy wouldn’t have a chance at all.

Briela quickly brought the small frame up to her mouth, sealing her warm pink lips against the tiny fairy’s face, trying to puff a breath of air into her useless lungs. She pulled back, and didn’t see a downfall, or hear one. “Okay- just hold on honey- just hold on.” She begged, trying again as she repositioned the tiny frame, letting her head tilt back in-between her thumb and index finger, right in the soft crook, and sealed her lips again, giving a bit fuller of a breath- this time she kept her other hand on the tiny fairy’s chest.

A slow rise. Air was going in now. She pulled back, letting the fairy’s chest fall- before lowering again, delivering another breath. Rise… fall.

“Come on..” She whined, pulling back and moving her thumb into the center of the tiny fairy’s chest, pushing down awkwardly. The angle didn’t do her much of a favor, but she gained a small ‘huff’ from the fairy’s agape mouth. Briela moved to set her against the cold wooden kitchen table, her head lolling to the side, wings splayed under her and her tail in-between her legs as Briela tried another angle with her thumb- another useless huff. She was growing frustrated, but tried again. This time, she used two fingers, both on her sternum, before she pressed down.

Now that felt like a compression. Her body responded just as a human’s would, and she set her pace. “One… two… three… four!” She counted, Liric’s body shifting under each thrust into her still heart. Briela had calmed down- and now she had deep focus, her other hand carefully ready to scoop the tiny fairy up when she needed to give breaths again, resting against the kitchen table. Each thrust made her feel that more scared that maybe she was too late.

“hu-huh-huh-huh-huh” Liric’s body responded in small, quiet huffs with each compression, limbs failing slightly as she was picked back up off the table, Briela sealing her mouth against the fairies once more. She puffed out a small breath of air, causing Liric’s cheeks to expand fully, her lungs expanding quickly, huffing out air as the Twoleg pulled away. Another breath, rise, and fall- and then another.. just for good measure. She didn’t hesitate, carefully lowering Liric back down, her fingers finding their place again as she began to compress.

“huh! huh! huh!” her body responded more defiantly, as Briela didn’t worry as much about the depth- she worried that if she went too soft she wouldn’t be able to save the fairy. She counted softly under her breath, legs shaking with each thrust as her ribs flared out with each deep, methodical compression that was slammed into her unmoving muscle. Another round, and another set of breaths. She could see that some of the blueness had faded from the fairy’s body but she wasn’t yet responding to her- a quick feel against her chest gave her nothing in return, but Briela took the small frame from her table and back into her palm, her fingers moving to rub her sternum desperately.

“Come on, little one- please take in a breath!” She quietly whispered, deeply rubbing her sternum- trying to get any response, before using her thumb, cupping the tiny fairy in her hands as she began to deliver compressions again. These were harder, deeper into her chest- crushing her heart with each beat as she squeezed the tiny form. Her breasts jiggled with the movement, ribs flaring out- open mouth huffing out the air that kept seeping into her lungs. Her legs and arms shook with each beat, the warmness from Briela’s palms starting to take away the coldness that the kitchen table had only caused to get worse. She was desperate, her mouth sealing again over the tiny fairy’s face, forcing in air even as her thumb continued to press, feeling the way her chest rose up and huffed out quickly with the next beat. Her belly jiggled with each compression, expanding and shifting under the weight until- a tiny gasp echoed.

Briela paused for a moment, her thumb resting over Liric’s sternum. The marbling of bruises and redness made her feel horrible, but Liric tried to gasp again, but her eyes weren't opening. Each gasp was deep, struggled. Agonal. “Come on honey…” Briela pleaded as she rubbed against her sternum firmly, not getting any kind of a reaction before she began to compress again. She knew that this breathing wasn’t a real sign of life- and even though she wished she had a AED , she knew there was no such thing for something so small.

Each thump against the sloshing muscle further pushed blood throughout her system that was trying so hard to fight. Briela’s careful grip, and thumb centered square in her sternum- didn’t give her heart any choice. It would beat, and it would beat to the rhythm that it was set to. Briela moved back down after only fifteen, bringing the tiny fairy up to her mouth once more, sealing over her face and blowing quick breaths of air- over and over again, her tiny chest expanding quickly as her thumb rubbed against Liric’s chest, making her chest shift and bounce before her limbs came up suddenly, starting to move and gasp.

“Oh! Oh my goodness, you’re alive! Okay, it’s okay little one- breathe for me, just breathe!” She guided softly as she pulled back, feeling the quick thudding of Liric’s heart as she regained consciousness, the tiny fairy looking terrified as she realized what was going on. “I-It’s okay, it’s okay, I saw you got trapped in a jar- I saved you, you’re okay.” She pleaded, hoping that the fairy understood what she was saying. Liric didn’t have the energy to move, yet, but Briela was already standing, looking through a pile of sewing supplies on her kitchen table until she found a small square of soft fabric, wrapping the tiny frame in it, and laying her down carefully on a old plushie. The tiny fairy’s body rested against the softness and warmth, and Briela didn’t take her eyes off of her.

She’d done it. She’d saved the fairy!

[severedfromthesource]

Bite Back

Pt 1/3

Next part

Original concept from @delicious-beats. Contains F resus, M rescuer, LUCAS thumper, automated CPR, mouth to intubation tube, depictions of gore, trying to resuscitate a zombie

Blackened veins ran in a spiderweb from the holes in Luffy’s shoulder. She shouldn’t have even been out, Elijah had told her again and again, the fucking news had told her, the trucks with megaphones and military personnel blaring up and down her street for the past ten hours had told her. But she needed to know he was okay. She was always trying to look out for him. He’d never hated her selflessness more than right now. 

Her skin was bloodless, her usual dark brown hue sapped until she was completely ashen, the circular row of splotchy red teeth marks and black fissures of veins the only real color left to her body. Her heart was beating arrhythmic on the monitors as the ambulance tried to find a path forward through the streets choked with people fleeing. Her head rolled back on her neck and she looked up with bleary eyes towards him. 

“Eli,” she choked out, her throat tight to the point of almost closing up. 

They’d dealt with bite victims all day. They’d lost all of them, and then had to cut it and run when the old woman or the jogger or, worst, the fucking ten year old who had been playing soccer, reared back up and tried to take a bite out of them. Elijah cradled her head, his mind racing. The symptoms presented differently with everyone they’d encountered. One spewed blood, one just bottomed out and died, but so far complete cardiac arrest had occurred within the first twenty minutes of contact. His eyes darted to his watch. It had been fifteen since she’d screamed over the phone and he had raced to come find her.

He pressed a square of gauze against the wound, his breath shaking. “Okay,” he said, “Okay, Lu? I need you to look at me, focus on me, hey-“ He held her face with one hand and snapped his fingers near her ear with the other. It lolled like a doll with loose joints. “We’ve got a couple minutes before… b-before the first real symptoms kick in, the really bad ones. But I’m gonna get you to the hospital, alright?” He added in an aside to his partner in the front, “How long you think until we get there?” 

“Fuck man,” Jonas spat, “Every street is clogged, the military is setting up choke points on every major road. They’re not gonna let us even through if she’s infected.” 

“I didn’t fucking ask about the stupid fucking military, I asked how long until we get there,” Elijah replied in a tone that warned the other man he would not be accepting any other outcome but Luffy making it to the front doors of Saint Edward’s.

“Twenty minutes, if I can find a decent backstreet. Probably forty if I can’t.”

He nearly sobbed. The air left his body in a rush with a stricken noise he couldn’t hold back. Luffy’s hand reached out and grabbed at his shirt. 

“Eli,” she sputtered again, but there were tears in her voice this time. “I don’t … I d-don’t wanna die…”

Twenty minutes. Probably over that, but he couldn’t think about that. His eyes snapped to his watch again. Three minutes left. He could keep her heart going. If she wasn’t really dead then she couldn’t be undead. He would keep her alive, and they would cure her, and she would live. There was no other option. Not for him.

Spittle dried white at the corner of her lips as he stared down into her face, those lips he had kissed until they were swollen now trembling and pale. He smoothed hair back from her forehead and leaned in close. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” he promised in a low voice, cupping her head with both hands. “You’re gonna be alright. You trust me?” She nodded, even as tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and slid into the pillow beneath her. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. We take care of each other, right? It’s what we do.” 

Two minutes. Elijah kissed her sweaty forehead and drew back, collecting everything he’d need for an arrest as the ambulance swayed and bounced over uneven terrain. He snatched out epinephrine, pulled out the AED, strapped her to the gurney, all with an efficiency he didn’t even know he was capable of. Already her heart was beginning to skip, throwing out PVCs on the monitor as her jagged heart rate either spiked above the line or dipped far below it. He eyed the restraints they had on hand, the brace boards for trauma victims and cuffs meant for psych patients. As he drew the LUCAS out, he tested the straps on the sides of the large, crescent moon shaped piece of equipment. There was no telling if they’d hold if she tried to take a swipe at him, but maybe. 

Twenty seconds. Elijah gripped the neckline of Luffy’s shirt and tore it down the middle, sweat beginning to drip down the back of his neck and back. She was hardly moving, her bare chest glistening with sweat. Her nipples had lost their color too, and her breasts swayed jerkily with every short, halting breath she managed in. Her eyes were drooping closed. Her jaw twitched open a little and slackened back as she took one more shallow sip of air. Then it left her lungs in a quiet sigh as her chest deflated for the final time. There was one more quick flutter on the monitors, her heart clawing for the last few quivering beats it could manage. Then it stopped. 

Elijah clamped down on the welling nausea to tap the timer on his digital watch. Jonas cursed up front as the EKG hummed a flatline. Wasting no time, he slid the curved backboard under her limp body, lifting the LUCAS and clicking it into place above her. The thing settled between her breasts, the flexible rubber plunger flush against her sternum. One of her arms hung limp off the side of the gurney and he took it by the wrist, fixing it in the straps on one side of the machine, then the other. Her fingers curled against the motor case. Elijah jabbed at the controls and turned it on. 

The machine jabbed the plunger down into her chest with all the force of a trained EMT. It cratered into her heart, the force displacing through the rest of her body so her belly rolled out, her shoulders rippling with the force of a robot that didn’t care if it felt her ribs pulp under its hands. It had never held her. It had never known the warmth of her. The thing pistoned and made a noise far too loud for the cramped space. Zip, zip, zip, zip, zip.

Luffy’s eyes were half mast and empty, lips parted. Elijah checked the timer. A little over a minute had passed since the start of the arrest. Maybe there was still time for intubation. He snatched the laryngoscope and tilted her head back by the jaw, sliding the metal blade past her bloodless lips and over her tongue. The curved blade made an easy track down her throat, bulging it slightly as he maneuvered an intubation tube down the tunnel of her trachea. He slid it home with one hand, the other resting at the pulse point in her neck to feel the blood being forced to circulate. He knew he couldn’t look at her face. He had to focus on her tongue, her mouth, her teeth, the hard bone of her jaw under his fingers. If he looked at her face, he would lose any shred of sanity he had left. But his eyes slid anyway. They moved down to her eyes- only they weren’t half lidded anymore. 

They bore into him, the pupils grey discs in the center of her dark eyes. The whites of her eyes were shot through with red veins. Her jaw clicked as it moved around the intubation tube, her lips peeling back, exposing her teeth.

“Fuck!” Elijah exclaimed and jerked back, his back hitting the wall of the ambulance. 

“What, what?” Jonas shouted from the front seat.

Luffy’s body moved, her arms tugging at the restraints, her legs shifting underneath her. They curled up and kicked out, but the belts around her waist held her down. Her back arched against the LUCAS even as it slammed down against her sternum. Elijah heard something shift sickeningly under the skin. A guttural growl rose up from the tube and she thrashed, shaking her head, rolling back as her teeth gnashed against the tube poking from her mouth. She gargled and sputtered and he realized with a jolt that she was tearing up her throat with her bucking and shaking. 

“Luffy,” he breathed. “Lu… Lu, stop, stop it-“ He lurched forward, grabbing her jaw, but she snapped her head to the side and clicked her teeth within a hairs breadth of his hand. "Fuck, fuck!"

"Eli! What the hell-"

"Focus on the road!" As he snapped this at Jonas, Luffy burbled a mouthful of blood from around the tube in her throat. He managed to throw his arms in front of his face just in time before it might have splattered in his eyes or mouth. The last thing poor Jonas needed was another flesh crazed cannibal in his ambulance. Elijah had already decided he was saving the woman he loved, and he was going to keep that promise; he just needed to stay warm and breathing to do it.

He lunged for her again, clapping his hands on both sides of her head, just out of reach over her bared teeth. "This is definitely not how you're supposed to intubate someone," he panted, already out of breath, "But I know very well you're not breathing for yourself right now." As if in agreement, Luffy gurgled with a throat full of blood, already darkened by the virus until it was almost black. He wrapped his lips around the opening of the tube and forced a breath into it. Might as well, things definitely couldn't get any worse. His eyes flicked to her chest as the LUCAS did its thing, bowing her ribs in against her spine with ruthless efficacy, and blew another breath into her oxygen starved lungs, even as she fought against it. Six minutes in arrest.

Her arms strained against the bindings and he heard the velcro straps start to go, but she was just mindless and angry enough she didn't seem to understand what was keeping her stuck. She twisted her wrists and struggled until the skin was bruised and raw, but the straps held. They'd hold until they couldn't anymore. He considered a neck brace to try and hold her still enough to attach an ambu bag and actually intube her properly, but if he lessened his hold on her for even a moment, she'd snap and flounder, teeth chomping as they lunged for his flesh. The LUCAS had to be good enough. It was all he had. He stood there, bowed over her, filling her lungs. Each breath forced her chest to rise before it was again crushed under the LUCAS as it beat her heart over and over again. Every time he gave her oxygen, she made a wretched wheezing noise and used the breath as fuel to snarl wordlessly at him. Her legs kicked out, banging against the walls of the truck, scattering supplies tucked into corners. Her body tried to roll up and fight the machine as it relentlessly battered her dead heart.

"Please, stay still, Lu." He stroked his thumb against her cheek, trying to suppress the sobs he felt building behind his eyes. Every time the LUCAS pounded against her sternum, it forced what little air was left in her lungs out, often in a grunt or a a hollow rasp in the back of her poor, abused throat. “I got you, baby. I’m not giving up, not until I get you back.”

She snarled again, but the thumper kept cutting into her displeased noises. “Haaar-huk, graa-ack, huk-“

Ten minutes in arrest. Elijah looped his arm under her chin, pinning her in his bicep to keep her head still, and punched the pause button on the LUCAS. He slipped two fingers under his headlock to feel for her pulse, but the monitor returned to a flatline the moment the automatic compressions stopped. She was still dead even as she squirmed under the restraints.

“Come on, fucks sake, Lu. Give me something,” he muttered, slapping the resume button to once more fill the ambulance with the rhythmic zip, zip, zip noise. Her breasts bounced with the force, her hardened nipples drawing lines back and forth in the air. He breathed once more into the intubation tube. The machine forced the breath back out as soon as he’d given it. She didn’t stop her struggles, trying to fight the thing assaulting her motionless heart. He had to wonder if she felt it pushing stale blood through the chambers and ventricles. He could only imagine how much it must hurt to be conscious during CPR. Her ribcage had probably already been rendered into pudding by now. He could see the bruise where the plunger knocked again and again into her. “I’m sorry,” he found himself whispering.

Thirteen minutes in arrest.

He didn’t know how much more he could take. Seeing Luffy’s face contorted, empty even as it moved and made noise, was starting to break Elijah. Or at the very least break some vital piece of him. He ran his thumbs over her temples as tears silently slipped down the bridge of his nose and patted wetly on her face. She didn’t even flinch. There was nothing left of her in those diseased eyes. He held her still enough in another headlock to check her pupil reactivity, but they were fixed and blown wide with dilation. He didn’t know if that meant the virus was doing its job, or if she was beyond saving. Luffy rattled the gurney as she kicked again, thrashing her body as much as she could while being pinned down by the machine punching into her sternum over and over. Sixteen minutes. Sixteen minutes and absolutely zero electrical activity: her heart hadn’t even quivered. It simply lay silent and still while the rest of her kept moving.

Elijah sank into a crouch, holding onto the edge of her bed to keep himself from collapsing utterly. He heard Jonas radioing into the hospital, but he couldn’t focus on anything but the pitiful gasps and grunts Luffy made as the thumper pinned her beneath it. “Stay still, please God just stay still,” he begged her and felt tears spilling over. He couldn’t hold it back any longer. All he could do was sit there and shake with silent sobs. He couldn’t even focus enough to breathe for her. “Baby,” he rasped in a hoarse whisper, “Please… Jesus Christ, please…. Come back…”

“Eli,” Jonas called again for what had been the third time, but was the first time Elijah had heard him. “They say they’ve got some kind of antidote, they’ve tried it on a few of the infected.”

Elijah wiped tears and snot off in his upper arm. “Any results?” he asked, warbling. The greater part of him wanted to tell Jonas not to bother, that it was too late. That she was gone. The most an antidote would do would maybe put her down peacefully so she could rest easy. But there was that little kernel, that one errant thought that said maybe, maybe she could come back.

“A couple people have come back. Not totally, they think it might be brain damage from the time they spent without circulation. But they stop trying to rip people’s faces off.”

They’d been her life support since the moment she turned. Her heart had barely even been given a chance to stop in her chest. The LUCAS had good rates of spontaneous return of circulation; if anyone could come back, Luffy had been given the best chance.

“They know we’re coming?”

“They’re gonna meet us the second we pull in.”

He stared down into the silver discs of her eyes. She was still in there, somewhere. She had to be. “Hold on, Lu. I’m gonna get you back.”

[sweeter-than-teafood]

One very minor criticism of Sitri’s design, from the viewpoint of someone who shares this guy’s kink irl,

Okay, so bby likes to listen to hearts. Mood af.

But as someone who does that irl with the person I’m romantically involved with, the following position is so comfortable for that purpose;

Laying snuggled up into their left side, right ear directly over heart. Much easier than laying at their right side, because the heart is more situated towards the left. Optimal af.

So whyyyyyyy

Horn on the right hand side of his head? The horn would poke someone if he tried to snuggle from the left side, seeing how it curves around/over his ear.

Bby can’t even have optimal cardiophile snuggles. Crying in the club right now.

Note: this isn’t a serious criticism, he’s perfect af. I was just thinking about scenarios for my writing and was like “Ah shit, he can’t do the best kind of cardiophile snuggles.”

[roxiewyatthb]

Your Property

Synopsis: A cardiophile reaching into another cardiophiles chest, controlling their heart (in a way that powers allow you) as requested by @maddieheart wc:577 cw: heart squeezing, irregular heartbeat, heart vocabulary, teasing

"Can I use it on you again?" They spoke up, voice quiet but stern.

Their partner stood silent for a brief moment, knowing exactly what they meant by "it". The night was quiet and relaxing, something they both enjoyed after a hectic day, but it seems that would be interrupted now -- not that either of them would ever decline -- it was just unexpected tonight.

Their heart started beat faster at the thought of them doing it once again. It was always thrilling. They loved it.

"As if I would tell you 'no'." They chuckled, adjusting their position from laying on the bed to now sitting up against the bed frame, "I'm all yours." Those words escaped breathlessly.

With haste, they scooted over to their partner -- waiting for them against the frame with their chest exposed -- completely ready for what they wanted to do.

"Okay..." Their voice trailed off while they reached forward to drag their hand across their partners bare chest, palming along the skin, feeling their heart pound underneath, "You know what to do."

With that cue, their partner took a deep breath in.

And slowly released it.

As they breathed out, a light colored aura coated their hand and was now slowly reaching into the chest of their partner. With each passing second they got closer to their heart.

"You're doing great...just a little more." They reassured them, now millimeters away from the muscle that pulsed life into their partner, and in less than a second they would make contact.

Cold fingers wrapped around their heart, causing it to skip a beat and flutter at the sudden contact, and also causing them to laugh at how their partners heart reacted.

"It always flinches when I touch it. It's so cute."

They only respond with a nervous laugh -- even with the amount of trust they have for one another it's always nerve-wracking to have someone physically touch your heart.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle. I always am," They lightly squeeze their heart, forcing it to stutter even more, "Aren't I?"

Their partner tried to stifle a pleased noise, biting down on their lower lip to prevent anything from leaving their throat.

They laugh again at this gesture, smiling sweetly at them while rubbing a soft thumb against their right ventricle, enjoying the feeling of their heart now racing in their hand.

Faster.

They grip it a little harder -- a little rougher -- enough to make it pause and pick up once again but at an even faster pace.

So fast.

Stumbling.

A few beats pass before they decide to move again, this time they'd try something completely new -- using both hands.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Their partner asked, voice wavering at the sight of their other hand now reaching into their chest.

"I want to feel all of you..."

Two hands wrapped around their heart now.

The first one stood in it's original place while the other reached further up to carefully squeeze their fingers in between their superior vena cava, aorta, and pulmonary artery.

This new feeling is exhilarating. It felt so much different than just wrapping their fingers around their ventricles. It was so much more...intimate?

They felt each beat -- each passing of blood -- between their fingers.

Contracting and briefly hugging each finger in unison.

The only thing that would top this right now would be seeing their heart in front of them, beating away.

That would be an ability they'll strive to learn next.

[beatinginavoid]

A Curse? No

Here you go @heartsypartsy, a vampire cardiophilia story as promised!

🩺🫀🧛‍♀️💓

Vampires – creatures of myth and fantasy that were cursed to endure a tormented existence by stealing the life of others.

Illiana shook her head. How silly. All predators sustained their own lives from consuming parts of others after death. Just because vampires drank the blood instead of eating the flesh did not change the fundamental principle. If vampires were cursed because of that, then so were all the omnivorous humans in the world.

Humans never seemed to understand that though. Such a narrow world view. Well, not all humans were that dense or blind.

Some humans believed in such creatures, and realised that not all of them were little more than mindless killers. Illiana, being a vampire herself, felt blessed to have a human in her life that was one of those understanding few.

Illiana went still, only moving to tuck some of her long, black hair behind an ear. She could hear the faintest, dull tapping. It was quiet, but it would soon grow louder. It was a heartbeat – her vampire senses were finely tuned to the cardiovascular system of mortal, living things.

She closed her eyes to better focus on the sound.

There was nothing in the world quite like the thumping of a heart. The snapping of valves, the whooshing of blood…

The very sound of life. It was the most pure, enthralling sound in the world. Well, human hearts. There was no other animal on Earth with a heart that sounded as delicious as that of a human being. There were plenty of animals with hearts around the same size, rate, and power, but they were never as enticing to listen to or drink from.

Humans had no idea of how amazing the treasures in their chests really were. Such a shame, what a waste!

Well, some humans were aware. The one this heartbeat belonged to was Illiana’s special human. Marie knew about vampires and even accepted Illiana’s existence, which was a wonder in and of itself, and, even better, she let the vampire indulge in listening, feeling, and consuming.

The beating became louder in tandem with footsteps. The dull tapping turned into thumping, getting deeper and meatier the closer Marie grew. Illiana opened her eyes in time to see Marie wave in greeting, a gesture she happily returned. Each step was slower than the pumping muscle powering them.

Marie would reach her in short order. She could walk at whatever speed she desired, Illiana only cared for the tempo of her warm heart. Slow, restful beats were all well and good, but the faster a heart raced, the more the vampire enjoyed it. The biological power behind every contraction of each chamber was stunning, and the gushing spurts of the rich lifeblood that ran through the body in innumerable streams was simply intoxicating. Her eyes slid shut again.

Illiana knew when Marie was standing right in front of her. She could hear the mortal’s heart as clearly as if she had her ear pressed to her chest.

Ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…

“Are you hungry?” asked Marie.

The vampire opened her eyes. Her human friend was smiling, eyes bright, and the faintest blush adorning her nose and cheeks. Illiana was always hungry to some degree – the closest thing to a curse she had.

“Not quite,” she said, all but purring the words.

Marie raised an eyebrow. A hand rose to her jaw and she caressed her carotid artery down the length of her slender neck. “I see.”

Her tone sure, her understanding strong. The vampire ran her tongue over her teeth, paying extra attention to her sharp fangs. The pair retreated into the house for more privacy, despite the fact that the garden was thick and the property was large, its neighbours distant.

Marie swanned past, going to an exercise bike next to a lounge that took centre stage in a room. She shrugged off a small backpack and dug out a cyan tubing stethoscope. A belt quickly followed and Marie tied the stethoscope in place with it, sticking the ends in her ears and straddling the bike. She winked at Illiana and took a deep breath as far as the belt would allow.

Ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump..ba-thump..ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thumpba-thumpba-thumpba-thumpba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump..ba-thump..ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…

Wonderful. Even the simple act of taking a breath could affect the pump so much. Illiana took a silent, deep breath of her own, though it was unnecessary and accomplished nothing. Her heart, if she still had one, was cold, shrunken, and still, her lungs shrivelled and useless.

The brunet slowly began to pedal, increasing speed at a glacial pace, breathing deeply and steadily.

Illiana daintily sat on the lounge, eyes fixed upon her dearest friend and ears tuned to the song of Marie’s life. Each beat was a tiny bit harder and faster than the last. The pedals moved quicker and quicker, and the constantly contracting muscle caged by Marie’s ribs swiftly overtook her feet in speed. The vampire leaned forward, elbows on knees and chin on hands.

Ba-thump.. ba-thump.. ba-thump.. ba-thump.. ba-thump.. ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thumpba-thumpba-thumpba-thumpb-thmpb-thmpb-thmpb-thmpb-thmpbdmpbdmpbdmpbdmpbdmp-

Marie’s eyes were half shut, a soft smile quirking her lips at the corners. She was clearly enjoying the sounds of her heart almost as much as the vampire. But Illiana was sure that her enhanced senses did a better job than any stethoscope, no matter how advanced.

The organ was pounding, beating multiple times a second. The blood it pumped swooshed relentlessly. Such a pace was not sustainable for long though. Hearts were amazing things, but they were not machines that could go on forever at top speed and full power. Her friend’s breathing grew more unsteady and shallow as Marie’s lungs did their best to keep up with her body’s demands for more oxygen.

Illiana stood, entranced, and glided to Marie. The human stopped pedalling and sat up straight, eyes now fully closed and chest heaving. The vampire hugged her friend and pressed her ear firmly over the pump.

BDMPBDMPBDMPBDMPBDMPBDMPBDMPBDMPBDMPBDMPBDMPBDMPBDMPBDMPBDMPBDMPBDMP

Glorious. Absolutely glorious. The elastic muscle was proving its worth by beating just over three times a second. The thumpy snaps and rapid whooshing were a full course meal for Illiana’s ears. Her fangs began to ache as the metallic scent of rich, red blood – so close, so tantalising – engulfed her olfactory sense.

It was close to beating two hundred times a minute. For now. Illiana clung, several minutes passing as the stressed organ began to recover, slowing incrementally.

B-THMPB-THMPB-THMPB-THMPB-THMPB-THMPB-THMPB-THMPBA-THUMPBA-THUMPBA-THUMPBA-THUMPBA-THUMPBA-THUMPBA-THUMPBA-THUMPBA-THUMPBA-THUMPBA-THUMPBA-THUMP, BA-THUMP, BA-THUMP, BA-THUMP, BA-THUMP, BA-THUMP, BA-THUMP, BA-THUMP, BA-THUMP, BA-THUMP, BA-THUMP, BA-THUMP, BA-THUMP, BA-THUMP, BA-THUMP, BA-THUMP.. BA-THUMP.. BA-THUMP.. BA-THUMP.. BA-THUMP.. BA-THUMP.. BA-THUMP.. BA-THUMP.. BA-THUMP.. BA-THUMP.. BA-THUMP.. BA-THUMP… BA-THUMP… BA-THUMP… BA-THUMP… BA-THUMP… BA-THUMP… BA-THUMP… BA-THUMP… BA-THUMP…

When it was back at a reasonable rate, Illiana let go and returned to the lounge. Marie followed and draped herself on it, lying back and leaving herself open. The stethoscope was still firmly in place, her ribs still flexing against the belt, though her eyes were open and fixed upon the vampire’s face.

“Hungry yet?” Marie asked.

Illiana ran her tongue over her fangs. “Oh yes.”

“I thought you would be,” she said. Marie tapped the side of her neck lightly in time with her heartbeat.

The vampire needed no more invitation. She moved slowly until she was leaning up against the human. She nuzzled the skin over the large blood vessels with her nose for a few seconds, lining up her target. Illiana’s mouth opened and her fangs grazed the soft skin teasingly.

Ba-thump… ba-thump… ba-thump… ba-thumpathump.. ba-thump.. ba-thump.. ba-thump… ba-thump… ba-thump…

A missed beat. Marie was enjoying this too.

A strong heart was definitely amazing, but Illiana couldn’t deny that she loved when one misfired. Missed beats and irregular rhythms were her sinful vices, especially when she caused them. As long as it was innocent and healthy – there was no way Illiana would ever risk hurting Marie, or her precious heart, like that.

Illiana stopped teasing and sunk her fangs in. Marie gasped.

Ba-thump… ba-thump… ba-thumpathump… ba-thumpathump… ba-thump… ba-thump… ba-thumpathump… ba-thump… ba-thump…

Gorgeous. Illiana began to drink, ears remaining tuned to the organ that was constantly in motion. It grew faster as the volume of blood in the human’s body was reduced, trying valiantly to keep up with the body’s demands. When it once again hit tachycardic levels, pounding away at over one hundred beats per minute, the vampire pulled back, licking the puncture wounds and stopping the bleeding immediately.

In a few hours the skin would be smooth and unblemished once more. Vampire saliva sped up healing by magnitudes, though Marie would have to replenish her blood levels by herself, the old fashioned way.

Her heart was hammering hard, virtually pummelling her sternum and ribs, as it compensated under the new workload. It was a new tune Illiana could almost dance to if the beat were consistent.

Ba-THUMP, ba-THUMP, ba-THUMP, ba-THUMPTHUMPTHUMP………… BA-THUMP… BA-THUMP… ba-THUMP, ba-THUMP, ba-THUMP, ba-THUMP, ba-THUMP, ba-THUMPATHUMP…… ba-THUMP, ba-THUMP, ba-THUMP, ba-THUMPATHUMP… ba-THUMPATHUMP… ba-THUMPATHUMP… ba-THUMPATHUMP… ba-THUMPATHUMP……… ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-THUMP, ba-THUMP, ba-THUMP, ba-THUMP, ba-THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP………… ba-thump, ba-THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP………… ba-thump… ba-thump… ba-THUMP, ba-THUMP, ba-THUMP

Marie gasped as her heart threw a bunch of skips. It always soldiered on reliably during exercise, never missing a beat while it raced. But whenever Illiana fed, her heart beat all over the place, even pausing for seconds at a time before picking the pace back up. It didn’t exactly hurt, and it always gave her a thrill to hear her cardiac muscle misbehave. These sessions of arrhythmias only lasted for twenty minutes at most, so Marie never wanted to miss a second.

Illiana thoroughly enjoyed the results of her feeding as well, though she always worried for her dear friend while the pump stuttered, spluttered, hiccupped, paused, and struggled. It didn’t sound healthy in the slightest, but Marie never seemed any worse for wear.

It was times like this that the vampire wished she could hold her friend’s pulsing organ, holding and watching as well as listening. To caress the pump as it misfired, to gently squeeze the chambers in sequence, encouraging the proper movement of blood through beleaguered valves, to make the work easier.

She wanted Marie’s heart to continue for decades to come - beat after beat, contraction after contraction, thump after thump.

Ba-THUMP, ba-THUMP, ba-THUMP, ba-THUMP

It was her favourite song after all, and she would listen to it on repeat until the song finally degraded.

[cardiolove]

A shock

Max and Chris had known eachother for a little while, enough for max to discover the fact that Chris could do some weird stuff on command. Those said things included being able to raise his heart rate exponentially and heat his body up to a fever.

What they also had figured out about eachother is that they're both cardiophiles.

Max, short for maxine, was about 5'4, a bit on the curvier side and had blue hair. She also had an interest in medicine apart from cardiophilia.

Chris was about 5'9, tanner skinned and his hair was about as long as Max's but it was black. He was neither skinny to the point of bone but not obese either, somewhere along skinny fat.

They had planned a meeting at Max's house, not for their usual coffee and chit chat, but for a little medical fun. Truth is, they found eachother attractive and were close enough in age so that it wouldn't be weird. They had loosely made up a scenario they would role-play to and how it would eventually end, at least that's what Chris thought. What he didn't know was that Maxine had prepared a surprise for him.

Maxine sat in her kitchen, sipping a coffee and excitedly awaiting the doorbell. She was wearing scrubs, the type that doctors wear while working in the emergency room, and a Littman stethoscope draped around her neck.

After about 15 minutes and half a coffee later, the long awaited ring sounded and Max shot out of her chair like she had been electrocuted, spilling a bit of her coffee on the table.

At the door stood Chris, slightly winded from the stairs he had to walk up. He was wearing a loose black tank top and a pair of black sweatpants. His hands were carrying a skateboard and his hair was lightly stuck to his forehead as the heat of outside had caused him to sweat a bit.

"Hii!! Come on in" she excitedly says, jittery from the coffee and the thought of finally being able to enact a long lasting fantasy of hers.

"Hey, sorry for being late I had to pick something up" he says as he sets his skateboard down next to the door. He takes off his sneakers and then pulls out a small bag with 2 brightly coloured candies. "Had to pick these up from my friend Molly" he continues with a wink.

"Oh" she says, a smirk growing on her face as she sees his actions. "Do you want something to drink? A coffee or something?" She offers as Chris puts the bag back into his pocket.

"No coffee, wouldn't want my heart to actually explode now. Just some water for those 2" he said, chuckling. As she went to fetch the two of them some glasses of water, he oriented himself to the nearest mirror, angled his head up, and admired how his pulse was visibly beating already, excitement driving his naturally elevated heart rate even higher.

"Should we take these now or later?" Maxine asks, coming back with two glasses of water. She didn't even try to hide the fact that she was eyeing him, she traced her eyes up and down his arms, torso, legs, neck, shamelessly.

"Now's the best time, you have to wait a few minutes for them to take effect" he said, passing her a piece, grabbing a glass and swallowing the candy piece. "You don't have to if you don't feel comfortable" he reassures Maxine, seeing her looking intensely at the candy. She tells him it's fine and immediately swallows it, this being one of the last few times she's going to do what he tells her.

"Go ahead and get comfortable in the other room, the doctor will be with you shortly" Maxine tells, tearing a hard inhale from Chris as he nods and heads off to the bedroom. When the brunette enters the room his eyes glisten when he sees and ekg machine and a defibrillator, even if they won't truly be used he could still already feel himself stiffening and his heart thud against his sternum harder.

As he sits on the bed and takes a few breaths, their scenario not starting with full on panic level tachycardia, the door opens and Maxine walks in, her stethoscope swaying around her neck.

"Hello Mr. Gutierrez, I see here that you've been having some trouble breathing, is that correct?" She said, looking at a chart. Chris quickly got into character and started breathing heavier.

"Yes, it's been happening for a few days so I figured I should come here and get it checked" he said, resting a hand on top of his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

She extended her hand resting two fingers upon his carotid to feel his quickening pulse before moving behind him. "Lift your shirt up, i'm going to listen to your lungs, the stethoscope might be a bit cold" she orders him.

He reaches behind him and pulls the back of his shirt up. He fakes a faint wheeze when asked to breathe deeply, as they had talked prior.

"You have slight abnormalities in your respiratory sounds and your pulse is a bit fast for just resting, I will have to proceed to further investigations." She says, writing in his chart.

"My... chest h-hurts" he chokes, using his abilities he raises his heart rate into tachycardia, up in the high 140's as his chest starts heaving.

"Lay on the bed i need to listen" She quickly says but not before he grabs her palm and presses it to his chest to feel his heart fluttering. After he lays down she takes off his tank top, gaining better access to his heart while also running her hands up and down his body.

"He-help me" Chris pleads, enjoying the feeling of his heart slamming against his sternum, the Molly they took earlier starting to kick in. Max quickly puts her stethoscope against his chest and listens to his heart rate soar over the 150's, his heart thudding almost three times every second. Maxine listens closely, pressing her hand against his chest. Watching as her hand is moving to the rapid staccato of his heart, he throws a skip... a few seconds later another one. The mauve headed doctor is impressed by Chris' control over his heart. They had a safe word if anything went wrong so they knew to stop.

Thud thud thud thud thud-DUN

"Wow..."she whispered unconsciously, which only made Chris more turned on and made his heart gain even more speed. His dick was now almost fully erect, yet they were only at the halfway mark of their scenario. His mind was starting to numb and he basked in the feeling. After she finished listening, she started putting the ekg leads on him. Quickly, the room filled with rapid tempo beeping with the monitor showing irregularities here and there.

"I- I can't breathe" he said, this sentence being a signal for the next part of their scenario. After Chris said the key words, he rolled his eyes to the back of his head and he started shaking, no... not shaking, seizing. Maxine pressed a button on the ekg machine and the rhythm changed to a preset one she had set. The ekg line becoming erratic as he keeps seizing.

"I need some help here!" She said to the empty room. Maxine now secretly turned on the defibrillator, as the next step was flatline and fibrillation. What Chris didn't know is that the defibrillator was real and could actually administer shocks. Just as she set the voltage on the defibrillator Chris stopped seizing.

She pressed another button on the ekg that showed Chris was in ventricular fibrillation. "He's fibbing, charge the defibrillator at 150" she said, putting gel on the defib paddles. Not shocking him quite yet, just miming it like they had planned. He pushed his chest up against the paddles and then back down when she pressed them.

"Shit, flatline" she verbalizes, only exciting Chris more, his erection now uncomfortable against his boxers. Maxine placed the stethoscope against his heart, hearing it thrash around his chest. His heart was now visible on the left side of his chest, hard to notice but there. His whole body was throbbing in time with his thrumming pulse.

"Starting compressions" she announces, lightly pressing on his chest, not deep enough to cause true damage like real compressions would, but enough to feel amazing for both him and her, especially him. She could feel his pump battering at her palm. She finished a set of thirty and went to give him rescue breathes which he gladly took but also turned into kissing. Hungry kisses, so hungry.

"I need a better angle" she says seductively. Saying that she moves from his lateral and climbs on the bed, straddles his lap right on top of his metal grade erection and resumes compressions. His body Is burning and his heat is radiant. She finishes the second round of compressions and in between rescue breaths "come on" she pleads.

"Fibrillation again, charge to 200" this time, she presses the button to charge, the defibrillator set at 50 joules, enough to affect him but not kill him.

"CLEAR!" She announces, stops touching him, and shocks him. He shoots up, caught in an adrenaline high, he presses his hand to his heart and laughs.

"WOOO THAT FEELS INCREDIBLE" He shouts. Chris grabs the stethoscope and puts it in his own ears and presses it to his chest. With a mesmerized look, he hands the earpieces to Max. As she puts them in her ears he grabs her hand and puts it on his chest.

"Oh my God... are you okay" she says, almost drooling. She chuckles at the question she just asked, Chris' heart is beating around 200 times every single minute, that's more than 3 times per second. There's moments where he slips into atrial fibrillation and skips back to pulse. As incredible as this sounds to Maxine, the better it feels to Chris.

"Oh... it feels so good" the tanner says, grabbing Maxine and starting a make-our session with her, and Oh was it heated, in mere seconds they were creating friction and were moaning messes. Chris took off the top of Max's scrubs only to find nothing underneath but hot flushed skin. With the steth still on his chest, Maxine moves down from his lips and onto his neck where she sucks and bites like a vampire, leaving marks all over Chris' neck, she especially pays attention to his distended carotid, tracing it with her tongue before attacking it, feeling his pulse incredibly fast against her mouth.

Chris grabbed onto Max's hair and started bucking his hips forward, his body flooding with pleasure. The pain of her teeth, the thudding in his chest, the pressure on his dick. It was driving him feral.

"Your turn now" Chris said.

Shall be continued? Tell me what you guys think because this has been gathering dust in my drafts for almost a year. Also, not proofread so tell me if it's incoherent.

[starlightiing]

Title: Rhythm and Balance

Pairing: Haasbands (Kevin/Nico H)

Summary: A brief glimpse into a soft moment shared between Kevin and Nico in the midst of a crazy season.

Warnings: Cardiophilia

Written for: @hulknussen just because I can 😊

It’s nearly midnight by the time their glasses of wine are properly empty and the soft, gentle glow of the moonlight filters across the floor - edging ever closer to the foot of the bed where, Nico muses, they should have been tucked in for sleep hours ago.

It’s rather interesting, really, just how easy it is to fall into conversation with Kevin. That isn’t new information, not in the slightest, but when they find themselves knee-deep in stories of the past and hopeful discussions of the future, the likes of which empty an entire bottle of wine in what feels like mere moments, it never fails to amaze him. 

Kevin is still faintly smiling, the remnants of amusement from the latest story Nico told, but there are obvious tells to his exhaustion. His eyes are beginning to rim red just slightly, and he’s no longer able to hold his head up without the assistance of one of his arms. It’s an endearing sight, but with lots to do on both of their schedules tomorrow, Nico knows better than to admire for too long. 

“Go to bed, before you fall asleep on the table.” Nico instructs softly, though fond amusement lingers in his tone. “I won’t carry you back if you do.”

Kevin scoffs, lifting his head up from where it had been comfortably lounging against his palm. “Way to make a guy feel warm and fuzzy right before bed.”

Nico smiles at that, something warm and painfully keen, as he reaches forward and collects both of their wine glasses between his index and middle fingers. Despite the banter, Kevin does drag himself to his feet and trudge over towards the bed as if it’s the most arduous thing he’s ever had to do in his life. What a silly man, Nico thinks –

His silly man. 

Pushing those thoughts aside - he thinks perhaps the wine might be influencing his mind into a softer, more vulnerable state - he places the glasses down into the sink of the kitchenette and fills them half-way with water. He then takes the empty bottle of wine from the table and rinses it out a time or two, before placing it in the recycling bin near the hotel room door. 

With a sigh, he quickly glances across the dining area of the suite to be certain they’ve not left any messes behind. Dinner has already been boxed up and put in the mini fridge, all of the trash is in the bin, and everything looks just as proper as it had when they arrived just a few hours earlier. Satisfied, Nico now drags his own feet over towards the bed where Kevin has already made himself very undeniably comfortable. For a split second, Nico even thinks he might already be asleep, but that is squandered when one eye squints open and lands directly on him, watching him carefully as he crawls onto the opposite side of the bed.

“Hurry up, it’s cold.” Kevin mumbles from beneath the blankets, turning himself towards Nico’s side of the bed and lifting up the blankets. Nico worms his way inside of them, hooking one of his legs comfortably between both of Kevin’s as he settles. Nico’s foot, nearly as cold as ice, brushes Kevin’s much warmer calf in the shuffle and it elicits a surprised hiss from between Kevin’s teeth. It’s ridiculous enough to make Nico chuckle guiltlessly in response as he shimmies in closer.

“If your hands are as cold as your feet, don’t fucking touch me.” Kevin warns him, though the words lack any real bite. If his hands are as cold as his feet, well, Kevin will simply have to deal with that, of course. 

“Romantic,” Nico retorts, allowing himself to be surrounded by the warmth of Kevin’s arms as they snake around him and pull him close. “That would punish you more than it would me, I think.”

Kevin hums in response, neither confirming or denying such a blasphemous accusation, Nico guesses, and shifts the two of them carefully until Nico is slowly brought against a firm, sturdy chest. It’s the very same firm, sturdy chest he’s grown to know so painfully well over the past year, the one that’s eagerly cradled his head more times than he can count on his fingers, and his eyes involuntarily flutter closed because he knows exactly what comes next. 

Kevin sighs, and it’s such an interesting sound with Nico’s ear pressed against the upper part of his chest. He can hear the way the air fills Kevin’s lungs, surprisingly hollow and wispy, and then how it leaves in a huff as he exhales it out. It’s truly a beautiful cadence, one that could alone lull Nico off to sleep effortlessly, but much to his chagrin, that is not the only sound hidden behind the safe confines of Kevin’s ribs. There’s something more, lingering behind the steady whoosh of breath. Something deep and bassy, rhythmic, ever as steady as the man for whom it works tirelessly for: Kevin’s heartbeat. 

It’s Nico’s turn to sigh now, and he can physically feel all of his lingering tension leave his body with the gentle motion of his chest. There is something so raw, so inherently visceral about listening to another person’s heartbeat. The level of intimacy that comes with hearing the very sound of someone’s life beating from within their chest is one Nico has experienced scant few times in his life. Each and every beat is a continuance of Kevin’s existence, the complexities of electrical impulses, muscle stimulation, and pure luck that keeps his heart pumping blood through his body like it’s so simple a thing. With each contraction, there are thousands of things that could go wrong and yet? And yet fearlessly his heart beats, completely unaware of how impressive and awe-inspiring it truly is. 

Not only is it the precious engine that powers Kevin’s body on the day to day, it’s also a bright beacon for his emotions and feelings. Nico has learned over the years that there is nothing you can truly hide, not if your heart has any say in the matter. A prime example is the way Kevin’s heartbeat, already slow and steady, only continues to relax in its gentle tempo beneath Nico’s ear as he drifts off into sleep. The change in pace is noticeable, the space between beats growing as the muscles of Kevin’s heart relax and it pumps slower and slower, its services only needed at the bare minimum while he’s unconscious in the soft comfort of sleep. 

Nico hums softly, an involuntary sound as he nuzzles further into Kevin’s chest. It’s almost as though he can wiggle himself even closer to Kevin’s heart, as though he could reach his hand out and phase it through skin and bone and pericardium until the tips of his fingers lightly brush against the warm flesh of the very organ whose rhythm Nico follows and tracks as if it’s the most important sound in the entire world.

And perhaps, he thinks, as his mind drifts off into a delicate state of unconsciousness himself, perhaps it is. 

[kk095]

Nurse Heather’s Morbid Curiosity

Trauma room two is quiet, contrasting the non stop, frenetic energy that’s usually found in seemingly every crack and corner of the emergency department. The bright, fluorescent overhead light above the trauma room table hums faintly, but the rest of the room feels still. Somewhere down the hall, the pitter-patter of footsteps and voices chatting is heard, but in trauma two, you can hear a pin drop.

Nurse Heather stands alone beside the trauma room table, focusing on the task at hand. On the table is 32 year old Rachel- a tall, thin, redheaded woman. Unfortunately, Rachel just passed away in our emergency department after suffering a sudden cardiac arrest. The team did everything they could for the redhead, coding her for over half an hour. Now, she’s just the latest beauty to have her time of death called in our ER.

Rachel’s skin is ghastly pale, and ice cold to the touch. Her bluish green eyes remain half open, seeming to follow Nurse Heather’s every move. The redheaded woman’s body still shows evidence of the thirty minute battle to save her. The ET tube remains in place, sitting between her pale lips. EKG electrodes cling to her bare torso, their wires snaking out. Defib pads are attached to her chest. IV lines are still in place in each of her arms.

Heather lowers a gloved hand over the deceased patient’s face, gently shutting her eyes for the final time. As she does that, an intrusive thought enters her mind: “what would it be like to be her?”

As Heather zones out, becoming lost in this thought, she imagines the faint sound of a heart monitor. It’s a faint, soft beep at first, but in a split second, the beeping begins to grow louder, sharper, and more incessant, until it completely fills Heather’s mind.

A sudden, jarring alarm breaks through the rhythm of the beeps. The sound seems to stretch on, rising higher, more frantic. Then with an abruptness, Heather is there. She sees herself on the table now.

Nurse Heather watches from the foot of the table from the third person perspective, her eyes locked on her own still form. It’s like she was watching a movie of sorts. On the table, Heather sees herself unconscious, intubated, completely limp and motionless, in cardiac arrest. Her chest rises and falls with each puff of the ambu bag. Her mouth is slightly open, the breathing tube sitting between her lips. Her eyes are WIDE open, staring up above in a look of pure terror. There’s a tinge of something unspoken in those wide, unblinking eyes, but Heather can’t quite put her finger on it.

The room is absolutely chaotic. Her coworkers (and friends), are all there, but everything feels oddly distant. It’s like they don’t know who she is, and she can’t interact with them. They’re all moving around her body with a sense of urgency.

Dr Lindsay is at the side of the table, serving as the brains of the operation. Standing beside Lindsay is Dr Sarah, who’s keeping an eye on the heart monitor. At the head of the bed is Nurse Nancy who’s ambu bagging. Last but not least is Dr Jen, who’s performing chest compressions. Heather’s skinny chest caves in, recoiling hard, her flat belly rippling out from the force of each individual compression.

“Let’s go ahead and try shocking her. Charge the paddles to 300.” Dr Lindsay dictated to the rest of the team. The defib paddles were gelled, charged, and firmly pressed up against Heather’s chest. “Ok. Everyone… CLEAR!” Lindsay raised her voice. KA-THUNK! Heather’s body jolted violently in response to the controlled dose of electricity. There was a brief pause after the shock, all eyes on the heart monitor. “No change, still in v-fib. Let’s hit her again at 360.” Dr Sarah chimes in. The defibrillator paddles are re-charged, gelled, and pressed back up against Heather’s chest once again, the next shock being sent into her body. Heather’s feet kick up at the far end of the table, slamming back down hard half a second later, showing off the soft, prominent wrinkles in the soles of her size 8 feet.

After the second shock, Nurse Nancy places two fingers on Heather’s neck, feeling for a carotid pulse. “Poor baby…” Nancy says under her breath, shaking her head, not feeling anything. “We still have v-fib, let’s shock again at 360.” Lindsay ordered, her blue eyes trained on the heart monitor. The defibrillator paddles are readied once again, and the next shock is administered. Heather’s chest shoots up, her back arches, eyes staring helplessly above before plopping back down hard on the table a second or so later. Following this shock, there’s another pause. “No change, she’s still in v-fib, Linds.” Informs Nurse Nancy. The defibs are prepared again, and a shock is promptly delivered. Heather’s body was effortlessly tossed around on the table by the electricity, her head rolling to the side, but again, the same dead rhythm remains. “No change, let’s try one more time.” Suggests Dr Sarah. Without any hesitation, the paddles were grabbed once again, and the next defibrillation attempt was administered. THUD!!! Heather’s skinny body flopped ungraciously on the table, the electricity racing through her lifeless body.

Following this shock, Dr Lindsay looked at the monitor for a moment, then exchanged looks with Sarah, Jen, and Nancy. “she’s in refractory v-fib.” Stated Lindsay, her tone of voice filled with resignation. “I’m gonna go ahead and call it, we can’t code her all night. Time of death, 2:21am.” Announced Lindsay. Without missing a beat, the team begins postmortem care. Nurse Nancy detaches the ambu bag from the ET tube, setting it on the table beside Heather’s head. Dr Sarah reaches for the heart monitor, turning it off. Dr Jen disconnects the EKG wires and wipes the defib gel off Heather’s chest. Nancy places a gloved hand over Heather’s face, and gently closes her eyes. “I’m so sorry hunny.” Nancy tells Heather. A toe tag is filled out and placed on the big toe of Heather’s left foot. The tag dangles gently against the soft, wrinkled soles of her feet as her body is covered up.

As the scene wraps up, Heather snaps back into reality. Her feet are planted firmly on the ground, looking down at the trauma room table where Rachel, the redheaded patient still lay. Heather doesn’t react to the vivid events that transpired in her mind. No gasp. No confusion. No dramatic “what just happened?!” Just back to normal.

Her hands, still gloved, work delicately, covering the redheaded woman’s body with a sheet. As she drapes the sheet over Rachel’s face, Heather can’t help but steal a glance at her face. The surreal feeling of that brief fantasy still lingers in the back of her mind.

Heather pulls her gaze away and makes her way towards the door. She pauses at the doorway, turning back for one last look at the covered form on the table. For just a moment, something flickers through her mind. She doesn’t voice it aloud, but thinks it to herself as she exits the room. “Maybe someday, I’ll get to be the one toe tagged and under a sheet in here.”

[risherrd]

[waywardserpent176389053]

Natsuki's Doki Doki Panic Chapter Two

Here is the second chapter, this time with editing provided by the talented @nursepunkdreams.

Circling Darkness

At first, Natsuki could only feel the throbbing of her heart. It was hummingbird fast, uncountable, and as tentative as the slight beat of their wings.

And it hurt. God, did it hurt. As though someone had sunk several needles into her chest and her heart was being forced to contract around them.

But that wasn’t quite right. Her other senses trickled in one after another. More pain. The soft hiss of compressed air; something strapped to her face, and a scattering of smaller somethings attached to her chest. A shrill, rapid beeping…

She winced. She was in motion, for sure—whoever was driving had hit some rough road. She tensed and tried to focus on something else.

Natsuki finally opened her eyes. She recognized the interior of an ambulance right away and tried to take it all in. An intravenous line snaked into her arm, and a dozen EKG electrodes covered her naked chest. A green mask fitted around her face fogged with her every breath.

Her vision wouldn’t quite focus, no matter how much she willed it to, and her thoughts didn’t fare much better. The whats, the whys, the hows of everything—it all escaped her.

“Hey there.” The paramedic noticed her wandering eyes. He gently touched the side of her face to center her gaze on him. “You just rest, okay? You’ve been through a lot. We’ve got you.”

She wanted to demand some answers, but was distracted by someone touching her shoulder. It looked like…

“It’s okay. I’m here too,” Monika reassured her in a soft tone. She watched worriedly as the other paramedic inched his stethoscope around her chest. “You fainted in the club room… so we’re just going to the hospital for a checkup. That’s all.” She placed her hand in Natsuki’s.

The paramedic let out a short sigh when he finished his examination and replaced the instrument around his neck.

“Still tachy. ETA?” He called out to the front.

“A minute, if that.”

Natsuki allowed herself to take some relief in that. The hospital would fix everything, right?

“Ah—” Her breath caught with a particularly painful spasm of her heart. The patient monitor sounded off with a new alarm as the spasms continued, and her hopes began to wane.

“She’s throwing some strong PVCs,” the paramedic said. He looked concerned scanning the monitor’s readout. “Hanging out around 180—pulse ox is dropping…”

Natsuki didn’t understand what the words meant. She looked to Monika for context and found her looking down at her, tense with worry—even more so than before.

That couldn’t be good.

“We’re here,” Monika gently relayed the information to her with a hand on her face. “I’ll be close by, okay…?”

She barely registered what she had said. There was a bit of jostling, some fussing by some unseen hands and the voices attached to them; the panel lights flashing overhead… but all she could focus on was her heart, beating out of control. It skipped and stuttered along in double-time, threatening to give out…

Then she came to a stop. She thought she glimpsed a sign that said ‘Cardiac Care Unit’, but she didn’t have time to think about it further. Suddenly her body was aloft, and then manhandled into position on a new bed. On every side, people were a blur of activity and an indiscernible torrent of medical jargon she couldn't hope to understand.

“Hi there Natsuki, are you with us?” One of her attendants spoke loudly and clearly, but still with a reassuring lilt. She waved her hand in front of her face. “There you are. You’re at the hospital, okay? Your heartbeat is very irregular, and we need to give it a little jolt to get it back to normal…”

She continued talking, explaining, but the words faded. On her opposite side, another medic was readying a defibrillator. She’d seen them, in movies, of course—but never in real life. The heavy capacitors were placed on her chest: one under her collarbone and the other under her breast. The team stepped back, and the man holding the paddles shot her a sympathetic look.

The shock was sharp and sudden, so much so that she hardly grasped that it had happened at all. She gasped, the trace read flat, and she became hyper aware of her heart. For a second, she was able to trace every part of her rebellious cardiac organ. Every blood vessel, valve, nerve, all of it; as though she could view it in a three-dimension space…

Then the muscle contracted. Once more, blood rushed to the rest of her body. She started to hyperventilate. The sensation—the awareness—was overwhelming. The monitor continued to broadcast a rhythm that was far too rapid.

“No change—still v-tach…”

She braced for the worst. The twin capacitors settled onto her chest once more.

The second shock struck her. The muscles of her back tightened and thrust her body against the defibrillator paddles, as if trying to buck them off. Her heart clenched like a fist, the electricity forcing a contraction. She slumped back onto the bed and her heart relaxed, still for a moment, then one beat… another…

No third beat. Natsuki’s heart, tired from all it had been through, merely twitched and spasmed.

She felt like she was sinking. The action around her grew more frantic—one medic rushed forward to compress her chest, another grabbed a bag-valve mask as her breath fled her lungs in a drawn out wheeze.

Her vision frayed into darkness at its edges. She feared the worst, but…

She could still see.

A medic frantically worked her chest, caving her ribs with every shove. Another tore off her mask and replaced it with the bag valve. She squeezed the bulb fast and steady, raising her chest with each repetition. It brought an ache in her ribs to her attention, and she found herself with the wherewithal to wonder if it was broken. Having barely finished her thought, she also noticed the pain of her ordeal was rapidly subsiding.

This is so embarrassing… Natsuki thought when her head was a little clearer. She hadn’t bared her chest for anyone in recent memory, but now a whole half dozen—or more—got to behold her pathetic body. She could feel her small breasts jiggling with each thrust, and going by what parts of her body felt clothed… she was only wearing her pink panties and white socks.

Natsuki thought she might expire fully right then and there.

She was reminded of the gravity of her situation then. She was fucking dying.

No… no! Not like this! She couldn’t reconcile with it. Her life had been utterly terrible for so long—it was only just getting good. She had a nice place to live! A crush on a cute girl! And she most certainly did not deserve to die from a sudden heart attack. She still needed to graduate, start a bakery… have sex at least once—not put into a casket at the ripe old age of fucking eighteen.

The compressions stopped, and the defibrillator was placed against her once more.

Please work, Natsuki begged. The current rippled through her and arched her back. Her jaw clenched, and for a second, all she saw was light. It rapidly gave way to darkness.

The void lingered just long enough to make her think this might be it. But she realized—she could still think, and then, she heard the noises around her. They were muffled, as though coming from the next room over, but enough for her to cling to for dear life. There was an alarm—shrill, persistent; a backdrop against the desperate voices of the team working her code.

She became aware of the compressions resuming next—suddenly acutely aware of her ribs being forced down; of her sternum pushing into her heart. The weight moved the arrested muscle down, stopped only by her spine; her ribs growing more pliable and fragile by the second. Beneath her chest wall, the organ was squeezed like a rubber ball; the valves within forced open as the blood was ejected. She could feel it—the blood pushed through the hungry arteries… and could discern, somehow, that it wasn’t nearly as effective as her heart beating normally. Between each thrust, her heart would swell as the blood rushed back.

All of this, in less than a second. But time dilated beyond all meaning now. The artificial rhythm continued at pace, and Natsuki felt the cadence with exacting clarity. Her heart continued to twitch. It reminded her of a plate of gelatin being shaken.

It occurred to her then—she hadn’t really considered her cardiac health all that much. Sure, she’d been a bit worried about it recently, but she didn’t think about it as a distinct part of her. She supposed she’d abstracted it somewhat—it having took on the appearance of a classic cartoon heart in her mind's eye, rather than the complicated mass of muscle it actually was.

Natsuki tried to give herself a shake. The present moment was far more pressing than this weird little detour her mind had taken… she needed that heart to beat again.

The compressions let up and air flooded her lungs. She relished the feeling. Breathing was good…

More of that, please…

She was met with more compressions. It would have been a relaxing cycle, if not for the mortal terror of it all.

Attempting to shift her mind elsewhere, she thought of her heart again. She could feel it so clearly, after all… perhaps she could figure out what the hell was wrong with it. She imagined turning it over in her hands, looking for anything amiss.

Her mouth being forced open broke her train of thought.

Oh… that’s kind of unpleasant… she thought dreamily as the endotracheal tube was guided down her throat. She wanted to gag, but didn’t, and when air came again at last, it inflated her lungs even more than before.

Alright, tube… I forgive you, Natsuki thought, still dazed. She allowed herself to luxuriate in the newfound oxygen and expected the cycle to resume, but it didn’t—instead of the hands ramming her heart, she felt two familiar weights against her chest.

Natsuki steeled herself as best she could.

Please, shocky things… please work—

The defibrillation forced her eyes open for a moment. Her heart, as with every shock before, locked up and ceased its twitching. She could see her chest arching against the paddles; the large, ugly bruise that had settled between her breasts; the breathing tube taped in place at her lips, and the many medics desperately trying to save her.

Maybe she was imagining things, but… she thought they didn’t look particularly hopeful. Her organ had stilled. There was an agonal contraction after a long pause, and then it started quivering again.

Natsuki groaned. The shock had hurt like hell. And not only that, but it had failed to revive her. At the very least… the pain was evidence she was still alive. It had to be. She tried to recenter herself, but—

They must have increased the voltage. The electricity snaked through her muscles, pulling each one taut as the current leaped from one paddle to the other. Her spine bowed and her heart seized with the current. She could trace the individual nerves of the organ as they fired all at once, the muscles at their end squeezing with as much strength as they could spare. Then—as before—it relaxed and returned to spasming.

Natsuki was getting a little frustrated now. Weren’t they supposed to call out ‘clear’ or something? A little more warning would be nice…

The compressions returned, and she began to riddle over her fibrillating organ once more. There must be an issue with her nerves—they were still sending out signals, but not the right ones. That must be why her heart was shaking instead of contracting. She traced her own cardiac nerves, trying to find which ones weren’t working, not sure what she would do if she found the right one…

The paddles were placed around her heart again.

Okay… gotta focus, she thought, with newfound determination. When the shock comes, I gotta force that nerve to—

The defibrillation rocked her body. Her heart contracted; its electrical signals scrambled. Natsuki traced the current…

There!

At the top of her heart, there was an entire cluster of nerves firing all at once from the external current. One of those nerves stood out to her, and even though she couldn’t tell how… she knew that was the one.

The charge dissipated, and her heart fell still. It stayed still.

The sinking feeling from earlier came back tenfold and Natsuki fought hard to keep her head above water. She was suddenly so cold, and the sounds from outside grew ever indistinct. She could only just barely make out the team’s voices…

“Asystole…!” One attendant shouted.

“Losing her!” She heard another cry.

The sensation of the chest compressions returned to her, but numb and distant.

Her life flashed before her eyes. Memories from the early days, when her mom was still around… those fleeting peaceful moment between the shouting matches and slamming doors. She hadn’t taken Natsuki with her, when she left—and she’d always blamed herself for that.

She was a pitiful child, after all. There were the years where she barely had any friends—thin and destitute, scrounging around for whatever food that man left for her—never enough to fill her. She was reminded of learning to bake, so she wouldn’t starve over summer break, and the comics she gorged herself on to give her any sense of hope.

More recent images flashed before her. Like joining the Literature Club and meeting all of her new friends.

That man being arrested, freeing her at last.

Planning for college. Baking new things—not for survival, but for fun.

All of it so recent. And so, so short.

Natsuki suddenly saw that all she would amount to would be a girl who never got the chance to really live—who got only the smallest taste of a good life before it was cruelly snatched away.

The darkness boiled around her; the cold threatening to consume her.

No!

She was not going to die!

Natsuki desperately thrashed against the death that surrounded her. She could still feel her body—the chest compressions, the air pumped to her lungs; the faint sounds of the efforts to revive her. She pushed upward, as if swimming towards the surface of an endless lake.

Natsuki had spent years reading manga. She tended toward slice of life and comedy—stories of girls just hanging out and having a good time, but she had read a bit of everything. Horror, romance, erotica, dramas, sometimes even action/adventure, if she was feeling a bit bored of her usual fare.

She envisioned herself as the protagonists of one of these adventures. Downtrodden, bloody—but standing up and defying the odds nonetheless. The second wind was coming.

She was going to survive this.

In her mind’s eye, she wrestled with her heart; begged it function. She pleaded and coaxed, and then, she was overwhelmed by an awful, acidic burning sensation in her veins. It moved closer to her heart with each press on her sternum, and she felt sick about it, but she knew it was likely the doctors still trying to save her and tolerated it as best she could.

The drugs soon arrived at her cardiac center. Nerves, once quiet, began to fire again. Slowly at first, then swiftly gaining speed—before long, the muscles attached returned to their unconditioned shaking.

Yes! Natsuki reveled in her triumph, even though it was largely the drugs that had done the heavy lifting.

Come on! Hit me again, shocky things!

As though the team could hear her, the weights of the paddles were promptly settled onto her chest again. Natsuki readied herself, but her timing was off. The fibrillation continued, and she prepared for the next jolt.

Three, two, one…

Another current rolled through her and she rode along it, pouring every ounce of her will into forcing her heart to beat once more. The cardiac muscles tightened, then relaxed, then remained still.

The darkness swirled around her. Natsuki clung to the light.

That was supposed to work, damn it!

Time was dilating again, and the creeping coldness settling in was fogging her mind. The distance between the compressions and voices stretched on further and further, as though she were adrift at sea, being pulled further and further away by the unforgiving yet undeniably gentle tide…

She felt more acidic drugs pouring into her veins and thought—for a scant moment—that her heart would react and start spasming again. But the organ did not respond. The voices of the medics cut in and out, hazy; painfully indistinct. Despite her senses failing, she still picked up the droning cry of the monitor, a flatline certainly running across it. In her altered state, it signaled to her that there was some great, terrible predator stalking around her, waiting to take her into dissolution.

My name… she thought desperately. It’s… my name is Natsuki. I like good manga, cute things… and baking! She tightened her focus. And… I love my friends, Monika, Sayori, and Yuri. God, Yuri… if I live for anyone, it’ll be for you!

She held onto this thought loop for dear life. A shield against the tide, against the cold, against the predator stalking near… if she could just hold onto herself… her friends…

Something changed. It was hard for her to focus on other things, but this was different. The compressions had stopped, but her heart wasn’t twitching. The asystole alarm continued, although distorted, as if she was hearing it underwater.

Oh… they gave up… she thought, despondent.

After all that, despite everything, her time was up.

The immense void moved in.

Yuri…!

She was numb, completely and utterly, but… there was no doubting it. She was being cut open. She struggled to remember why that might be happening.

Was she… dead? Was this a morgue; an autopsy? Something cold forced her ribs apart, snapping them like twigs.

That hurt. That hurt!

She remembered the names of her beloved friends and focused on the pain.

If I can still feel pain… then I must be… still alive…

Something new invaded her chest. They wrapped around her heart and squeezed. Hands, maybe. Blood shot through her arteries.

Natsuki rallied.

They haven’t given up! They’re still trying!

Her mind was scattered, but she tried to focus. She centered her attention on her stubborn heart.

Come on… work! Do something!

More drugs. It all felt so terrible, but she grit her teeth and didn’t dare break her focus.

A flutter. Then another, then her whole heart was thick with fibrillation once more. She could feel it so clearly; it was injured, weakened from its ordeal. The repeated shocks, the drugs, the lack of oxygen… and something deeper.

Some small thing that had always been there.

Natsuki lacked the vocabulary for it, but she knew, more than anything, it was the root cause. It wasn’t her nerves misfiring for seemingly no reason—it was this. This little thing she didn’t have a name for.

This flaw.

Small metal discs were placed against her heart.

Mini shocky things… she thought hazily. She knew she didn’t have much fight left. The creature stalked, just outside her perception, she knew—waiting for her to slip up.

Wait for the right—

Her heart was the sun as the charge smashed into it. Even though the capacitors were smaller, it was many, many times more intense.

Natsuki shook it off and readied herself. Her heart continued to shake meaninglessly.

Heh… rule of threes, she thought wryly. It’s now or never…!

The third hit. As her nerves sparked and fired; as the cardiac muscles clinched; as blood sloshed forward from the artificial beat—Natsuki took hold of one thought and bent all her will towards its success. She screamed it, howled it, bellowed it:

BEAT!!!

The heart relaxed as the charge dissipated. It was still.

Then, a nerve fired. Others followed. The muscle contracted—dared to contract.

And again. Then it stumbled, but caught itself.

Ba-dup… ba-dup… ba-dup…

If she could, Natsuki would have collapsed out of sheer relief.

She’d lived. She’d fucking lived.

She knew that her heart was still in poor shape; that she wasn’t out of the woods just yet. But that didn’t matter.

For now, she was alive. The rest could come later.

A new darkness rose around her, a friendlier one—a blanket of simple unconsciousness. She took the offer; she was exhausted in her bones. Her friends' faces rushed past her; she’d kept them. Held on so tight. Let them guide her back to the world of the living.

“I’ll see you soon, okay…?” she murmured, too quiet and indistinct for anyone to hear.

Her heart continued to beat. It was battered… and Natsuki knew, deep down, than it wouldn’t last much longer in the grand scheme of things. But for now, it would fulfill its function. Softly, as if exhausted itself, it beat.

And Natsuki lived.